Turning Point
by Aeilde Light
Summary: Peter Pettigrew is glad to have friends he can count on, but will they come through for him when he needs them? This is a one shot story.


Peter slowly made his way down the corridor, carefully reading the Daily Prophet's Sports section. He had no interest in the game, but his friends loved it, so he made sure to keep up with the latest news in Quidditch so he could talk with his friends about it. He heard a tinkle of laughter and looked up to see Triste Hawthorne and her friends walking by. He watched her as he walked by, admiring her hair and smile, wondering if she would ever see anything worthwhile in him...BAM! Peter fell to the ground and looked up confused to see Serverus looking down at him, his nostrils flaring at the smallest marauder.

"Pettigrew! Watch where you're going! And..." Snape spat at him, then seemed to suddenly notice how alone Peter was. "Where are your friends?" Snape asked quietly, saying the last word through his teeth. Peter glanced around and noticed Triste was watching them curiously. "Well, you won't mind if I send them a little 'thank you' message for that last prank they pulled, do you? No, I didn't think so."

Snape smiled maliciously and raised his wand, bringing it down with grand sweep. Peter's pants suddenly grew four sizes too large and slipped down his waist to around his ankles. His face turned bright red as everyone's face turning toward him and his dirty briefs. The group of girls burst out into laughter as Snape walked off, leaving a very pantsed Peter standing alone and embarrassed in the middle of the hall, for everyone to see. Peter quickly hiked up his pants and ran, holding them up, as tears streamed down his face. His friends! They would do something! If Snape had ever dared to pants one of them in front of the girl they liked, there would be hell to pay! They would get Snape back for him!

As he made his way to the Gryffindor Common room, he wiped away his tears, thinking of all the things he had done for them...letting them copy his homework when they forgot to do it themselves, letting them turn him into an animagus even though he was frightened by the dangers involved, letting them laugh at him every now and then rather than with him...surely they would do this for him. He entered the common room with some difficulty, practically swimming in his pants, and accidentally tripped over them as he reached his friends.

"Oy! Wormtail! What happened to you?" Sirius asked him. James and Remus looked to him curiously.

"Snape... pantsed me... in front of a group of girls." Peter gasped, trying to catch his breath. Sirius gave a small snicker, and Remus gave him a "that was certainly inappropriate" look that he seemed to have mastered long ago. James looked up to the ceiling.

"I suppose it's his way of getting back at us for last week...anyone important who saw it? What sort of damage control are we looking at?" James asked him.

"Triste... Triste Hawthorne was there..." Peter said quietly, looking down

"No loss then." Sirius said, shifting his attention back to his single player game of exploding snap. "She's certainly part troll or something." Peters face glowed red, his embarrassment growing and feeling his anger rise.

"Aren't you going to do something?" Peter pleaded them.

"Sure. Me and Padfoot'll come up with something." James stated, looking back to his book.

"No! If you two get any more detentions you'll be pulled from the game next weekend! It's the final Quidditch match of the season!" Remus glared at this two trouble making friends.

"Oh yea..." Sirius' eyes glazed over, remembering all their recent shenanigans.

"I guess we can't right now... Sorry Wormtail." James shrugged it off. Peter sat there quietly with his _friends_, thinking until they went to bed, then he stayed in the same spot, until the common room was completely empty. He stood to go to the dormitory and tripped over his pants again, falling on his face. He felt tears prick his eyes again, but this time they were tears of anger. He slowly made his way to his bed.

What good were friends who wouldn't even protect and defend you?


End file.
